


Father always promised.

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Jonsa Drabble Fest 2018, Post-Canon, R Plus L Equals J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 21:04:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14028705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: Sansa’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, his wide eyes red with grief and his cheeks stained with tears. He ducked his head away again, always so ashamed of his feelings. She remembered him being the same even as a boy. Always wanting to prove to father that he was as good a son as Robb, wanting to prove he was strong and brave like his true born sibling.Brave and gentle and strong. She tried not to think how Jon is everything father had promised her and all that she could never have.Father prompt from Jonsa Drabbles





	Father always promised.

It had come as no surprise to find him before father’s statue. Just like with Arya, Sansa knew where to find him when word came that he had disappeared.

They had believed her less of a Stark than her siblings, had called her Lady Lannister and Lady Bolton as though she had chosen such names. But Sansa knew her siblings, knew her family. She liked to think father would be proud of her, coming back home and surviving, being here to bring them all back together and rebuild Winterfell again.

She paused in the doorway when she heard the sobbing. She didn’t think she had made a sound yet his head turned all the same.

Sansa’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, his wide eyes red with grief and his cheeks stained with tears. He ducked his head away again, always so ashamed of his feelings. She remembered him being the same even as a boy. Always wanting to prove to father that he was as good a son as Robb, wanting to prove he was strong and brave like his true born sibling.

Brave and gentle and strong. She tried not to think how Jon is everything father had promised her and all that she could never have.

“Jon,” she whispered, approaching him slowly, as though approaching a wild beast.

He doesn’t say anything but he allowed her to pull him against her breast, allowed her to run her hands through his curls and press her lips to his temple as he sobbed against her.

“It doesn’t matter,” she murmured after what felt like hours of being huddled together.

“He wasn’t my father.”

“He was,” she insisted, pulling him back to look at him, to force him to look at her and hear the truth in her words. “In all the ways that mattered, he was your father. He made you who you are today. He would be so proud of you, of the man you have become.”

“No,” Jon mumbled, wrenching his head out of her grasp and pushing his own hands through his hair. “He would hate me. A Targaryen once more wanting a Stark daughter for his own.”

The silence seemed to stretch on as she stared at him in shock.

“It isn’t the same as Lyanna and …and him,” she said, reaching for his hand. He scoffed, shaking his head again. “It isn’t, because you wouldn’t be stealing me away. You would be saving me.”

She moved forward, pressing her lips to his firmly, her left hand gripping his while her right reached up to cup his cheek, her thumb stroking the roughness of his beard. She could taste the salt from his tears still but his lips twitched as though he was trying to smile when she pulled back.

“And father would love you for it.”


End file.
